We’re learning a lot about cancer during these days at Mayo Clinic. Actually, Ann Sophie is doing lots of the learning, and I’m doing a little, then learning from her.

Today we shared a phone appointment with Martha, a woman whose husband was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer that had metastasized to other places in his body—eight years ago. He’s fully functional today, and though he’s still dealing with his cancer, he can travel, work, be involved at church, and participate in family life.

Nelson was fortunate, Martha told us, to be receiving immunotherapy. Eight years ago they weren’t given that option. Her line was, “The longer he lives, the longer he lives.” In other words, if he can find a way to live longer, there will be more new treatments to help him live even longer than that. She also talked to us about the pressures on the one doing the care-giving. She said, “Let the one with the cancer be in charge of decisions.” Good advice.

The staff at Mayo’s has told us they can’t cure Nelson’s cancer, but they can most likely give him time. During our talk with Martha we learned what that might look like, day-to-day.

When we arrived at the hospital today, Nelson was being tended to by a multitude of nurses. As always, he was happy to introduce his family. Our timing was good, because a “procedure doctor” was about to drain Nelson’s right lung by way of his new catheter, and she wanted to show us how. When he leaves the hospital, our instructions will be to do this daily.

Ann Sophie and I watched as she carefully went through a long list of many small tasks to get the job done. I thought it was quite complicated, but Ann Sophie stepped up boldly to own the whole process. How thankful I am for a daughter-in-law who is smart and enjoys reading the fine print.

The medical staff is trying to figure out how much fluid Nelson’s right lung is producing every day, and it seems to be a liter or more. When I asked if the chemo and immunotherapy would lessen fluid production, she paused and said, “Well….maybe.” This wasn’t easy to hear.

The draining process is hard on Nelson and often causes pain, but not to drain it makes it hard to breathe. Thankfully, at least for now, he’s still got his little black drug-button to push, which helps immensely.

The staff has learned that his swollen left arm has no clots in it but that swelling is caused, they believe, by restricted blood flow in and out of that arm. This is due to compromised lymph nodes in his lower neck, though they are still looking into it. Today we noticed his left leg is swollen, too.

As Martha said this morning during our call, “Try not to look too far down the road, picturing what Nelson’s life or yours will look like. No one can know that yet.” Though the temptation is strong to look, we’re trying to take her advice.

“You ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that’.” (James 4:15)